Shadows In The Night
by Tergon
Summary: Part one of the Genetex Saga! Kurt Wagner is hiding from his past but when it catches up to him, it may cost him more than he can imagine...
1. Chapter 1

**Shadows In The Night**

It was night. The stars shone brightly, the hills illuminated by a crescent moon. Pausing in his flight from the compound behind him, a dark figure paused and looked up in wonder. He'd forgotten what the stars looked like.  
They were beautiful.  
Onward now, the figure ran. Keeping low, partially out of habit, partially out of instinct that dictated he remain unseen. Not knowing his destination, he ran with all his might on a road he did not know but followed as though it were familiar. This young man, more of a child really, running for his life, his freedom.  
Suddenly, although his eyes needed no assistance from light, he became aware of one - a flickering orange, off to his left. He turned towards it without thinking, increasing his already frantic pace. Within seconds he entered a clearing in the trees. Before him was a milling crowd of people, men, women, children. They were milling about a fire, chanting curses and screaming in fury at the fire - no, not the fire. At the figure tied to the stake in the flames, now burning like a candle.  
His sister.  
Who the mob thought was him.  
Turning, running now, the figure fled back the way he had come - but it was no longer the same way. A cliff waited before him, a drop of some eighty feet. Two figures struggled on the edge of the cliff - one seemingly an angel. one his brother. As he stared in horror, the angel hurled his adversary into the empty space beyond the cliff's edge, and turned to face the new arrival.  
_Your sins, your stupidity, your weakness. now they have led to the deaths of those you most hold dear. You should have surrendered, fool_.  
The escapee turned to run again - and saw a fence blocking his way. He could not pass. And behind him, as the landscape changed once more, becoming a place of pain, a place of evil, a place of science that was never intended to benefit mankind. A place known as Genetex.  
He was a prisoner again.  
He began to scream, a drawn out cry that echoed throughout the night.

And woke.

He was alone, by himself in a cave. In this new place he'd been forced to transform into a home, the place he'd lived alone for nearly two years now, though he himself had long lost count. He was lying on the pile of animal skins and branches that served as his bed, dressed in a pair of ragged pants that were all that remained of his clothes. As the dying echoes of his scream bounced off the stone walls and into the night, his breathing slowly returned to normal. Just a nightmare, not reality, he realised. He was not at Genetex now. His strange, three-fingered hand unconsciously felt the patch of midnight blue fur on his shoulder that covered the barcode they'd tattooed there upon his arrival at the Genetex laboratories.

_Be strong_, he told himself. _I am safe here. they cannot find me here. no- one will come for me here.  
_  
Alone in the darkness, Kurt Wagner began to cry.

----

"Good morning, Logan." The burly Canadian grunted an intelligible reply as Ororo reached around him to reach the coffee. "Did you sleep well?"  
"For a while. Somethin' woke me up 'bout 4 am."  
Ororo sipped her coffee. "What was it?"  
"Don't know. I've heard it before, though. Mentioned it to Chuck. He says I'm imagining things."  
Hank McCoy looked up from the newspaper he was reading at the table. "Getting confused in our old age are we, my friend?" he smirked. Logan scowled and was about to blast the blue mutant with a scathing retort when he was interrupted by the arrival of the student body in general.

"This is like, soooo unfair!" wailed Kitty. "It's not even 9 o' clock yet!"  
"But we woke up at 7:30 yesterday," chimed one a trio of Jamies – he'd managed to dupe himself within 10 minutes of waking up by falling over a lupine Rahne on the way to the shower.  
"That was a school morning," reminded Rogue. "Now quiet, or you'll encourage Logan."  
"Too late, darlin'," grinned Logan. "I'm up, so I don't need encouraging."

"Not even from your invisible friend?" murmured Hank, earning a scowl from Logan, a grin from Ororo and a confused glance from everyone else. Then Logan turned back to the others.  
"Now then. You've probably all noticed the snow outside, right?"

There was an apprehensive murmur of assent. "Well, since you're all having so much trouble waking up this morning, it can help ya out. You're all going for a run, all of you, to the falls in the mountains and back. That's five miles all told. Breakfast will be waiting when you get back, and the loser's got cleaning duty for the whole weekend."

There was dead silence that was finally broken by Evan.

"So, exactly how long ago did you sell your soul to the devil, man?"  
Logan grinned. "I am the devil, porcupine. Get changed, all of you. Show up late and as well as the run, it's 2 hours in the danger room. With me."

Had the students maintained the speed at which they ran to change into their uniforms, the 4-mile run would have been over in a few minutes.

----

"Before breakfast? Really, Logan," admonished the Professor.

"Don't worry, Chuck," chuckled the gruff man. "I told Scooterboy that they're to turn back after a mile and a half, and even he doesn't know that the cleaning duty threat was a lie."

"Well then," announced Hank, "this gives us a spare hour or so - Logan, why don't you entertain us with the exploits of your imaginary friend. Have you heard this little fable yet, Charles?"

"Yes, I have," admitted Charles. "And I'll tell you what I told Logan. If there is someone living in those mountains, then they're there by choice. If they're a mutant, they're not using their powers or else Cerebro would pick up their signals. No matter who they are, they probably have a very good reason for living in solitude, and it's not our place to intrude. And if it's simply Logan's overactive imagination, there's nothing to worry about, now is there?"  
Logan snorted. "Whatever, Chuck. I know what I hear, I know what I smell, and I know there's someone - or something - hiding up in those hills." He turned to gaze at the peaks out of the window. "And I don't like not knowing who it is."


	2. Chapter 2

The rabbit sat up on its haunches, sniffing the air. Satisfied that no-one was around, it resumed nibbling the grass it had uncovered by digging at the snow. This was the last mistake it ever made. In a flash of silver, a knife hurtled across the clearing and impaled the rabbit. It never knew what hit it.  
Kurt materialised more than became visible as he left the shadows he'd been waiting in.

_Three rabbits_, he thought. _That should do it, for today_.

In a small garden he'd managed to grow, he had herbs and vegetables that were protected from the elements to go with his meat. His rural German upbringing served him well in the wilderness.  
Stooping to collect his prize, he suddenly paused as his sensitive hearing picked up the sound of approaching people, and he dove back into the shadows. He cursed the small patch of red snow that betrayed the fact of his hunting, but it couldn't be helped. He could run if he had to. Dropping into a crouch, knife at the ready, he listened intently as a tall young man with brown hair and a strange visor covering his eyes spoke to the others.

"Okay," announced Scott. "That's enough – we're going back now."  
"Huzzah," muttered Jubilee as she tried not to shiver too hard. Evan wasn't convinced.  
"Won't Logan get angry if we don't go the whole distance?" he asked. Scott shook his head.  
"Not if we all get back at the same time. He'll think we all went to the falls and came back together."  
_You sure about that?_ Came Jean's voice in his head.  
_Perfectly sure_, he replied. _Logan told me to do this. Don't tell the others_.

Jean just grinned and turned around – unfortunately knocking over one of the two dozen remaining Jamies as she did so, the trek through the snow having caused him to fall over more than a few times. Helping the new Jamies to their feet, the assembled X-Men began the run back to the mansion.  
No-one noticed the unconscious Jamie lying buried in the snow as they left. Not even Kurt, when he left almost five minutes later.

Soon it began to snow again.

----

An hour later, everyone had eaten breakfast. Logan, having informed the students of his 'cleaning duty' joke, was almost popular. He didn't seem to like it. Hank, of course, found the whole situation highly amusing, although he had sternly scolded Logan for risking the student's health by sending them out into what was swiftly becoming a blizzard. Logan ended the argument by suggesting that Hank find a closet and utilize the privacy therein to copulate vigorously with himself. Now, the students sat in the Rec room watching the Saturday midday movie. There were now four Jamies remaining; as a commercial break came on, another one disappeared, provoking comment from Rahne.  
"Jus' how many of ye are there, Jamie?" she asked the triplets.  
"We don't know," said one.  
"We think just us," added another.  
"But, there might be more," shrugged the last.  
"Who knows?" they asked in unison. Evan just put his head in his hands and groaned, but Rahne persisted.  
"So which one of ye is the original, then?"  
"I am," they said in unison, then glared at each other. Even groaned again, and Rogue patted him on the back, making soothing sounds. Rahne opened her mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the abrupt disappearance of two of the three Jamies. "Told you," said Jamie.  
"Like, congratulations," drawled Kitty. "Want a trophy?"

The surviving Jamie was about to retort when he gained the attention of all present by vanishing, too. Silence prevailed for an instant, before Scott broke it.  
"Either this is a joke, or an honest mistake has been made, or this is _really_ bad."

Jubilee nodded in agreement. "And around here, it always seems like the last one." She stood. "I'm going to get the professor."

----

It was snowing really hard. It was freezing. Jamie was scared.  
The last thing he remembered was Jean bumping him, and he fell over

_Man, I'm a klutz…_

"Sorry, Jean," He said, and got to his feet. Then he noticed Jean's absence. "Jean? Hello? Somebody? _Anybody_?"

Now he was really scared. He was totally alone, colder than he'd ever been in his life, and the growing snowstorm had stripped him of any sense of direction.  
He didn't know how to get home.  
He didn't know what to do.  
He did the only thing he could do. Taking a deep breath, he gave the traditional, standard reaction to complete and utter terror.

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLP!"

----

In his nice, warm cave, Kurt was relishing the feeling of a full stomach, having just finished his breakfast. He was almost falling asleep... Jamie's scream brought his head up instantly. For a moment, fear of discovery and capture froze him in place. Then a repeated scream galvanized him into action. All thoughts of capture, all fear of hunters, were gone.  
Only one thought drove him.  
_Someone needed help. Someone was in danger, maybe about to die, and perhaps there was something that could be done to save them_.  
Kurt paused only to slide his knife into its sheath before he sprinted out into the blizzard. His form was quickly swallowed up by the raging snow and wind as he ran towards the sound of Jamie's distress.

----

Professor Xavier was not having a good day. He'd spilled a cup of coffee over his favorite jacket, had to break up several arguments between Logan and Hank over the existence of the hermit in the mountains, and now this. He sighed. "And you have no idea where the original Jamie is?"  
"Ummm..."  
The professor massaged his brow. "I see. When was the last time you knew for certain where he was?"

Kitty spoke up. "Um, it was like, right before we went on Mr. Logan's morning run. He like, totally fell on top of Rahne and duped." Rahne nodded.  
"And then the daft bairn went and duped himself another dozen times during the run. The last time was when Jeannie knocked 'im into the snow when we turned back."  
For a moment, Charles was silent. Then he cautiously spoke. "Children... are you completely certain that he came back? That there is NO CHANCE WHATSOEVER that he is still out in that snowstorm?" There was total, nauseating silence.

_Oh dear._

He began to move toward the elevator, barking orders as he went. "Search the mansion. Every room. If you find him, let me know. Scott, find Ororo and tell her to stop the snow, if she can. I'm going to use Cerebro to search for him." He paused before entering the elevator. "Now!"

The students scattered.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt looked down at Jamie. The boy had fallen into the snow after walking nearly half a mile from the place where he'd regained consciousness, and had at last collapsed face-first into a pile of soft snow that had, luckily, prevented him from duping. His lips were blue with cold, and he was barely breathing. Kurt had come across him only moments before, just in time to watch him pass out from fear and cold.  
He wanted to help this boy.  
He didn't want to be discovered.  
Yet there was no choice.  
He stood still in the icy wind, remembering his last sight of Genetex. Dr Francis Baine, head scientist of the laboratories, had stood at the gates calling after him.

_There is nowhere for you to run, boy. Eventually someone will find you, and they will tell the world. And when I know where you are, I'll come after you. I will have you back here, I promise you that_.

But then... he'd sworn never to take life. Stefan had died because Kurt had been too weak. Jimaine had died because Kurt hadn't been able to save her from the mob. Wasn't letting someone die when you could have saved them just as bad as killing them yourself? Could he leave this boy to a certain death in the storm – when saving him would almost certainly be signing his own death warrant?  
Could he kill... to save his own life?  
As he stood there, Jamie's breathing began to rasp in his throat. Mein gott... he sounds so lost. That decided him. Bending over, he slung Jamie's limp form over one shoulder. He'd seen the boy with the band of people earlier, but their tracks had long since disappeared into the snow. No matter. He knew where to take the boy. Kurt focused his thoughts on the mansion at the foot of the mountains.

_Even if I am signing my own death warrant... it's not like this existence is a lot to lose..._

He vanished in an explosion of smoke.

----

"Professor?"

Charles didn't look up. "Yes, Scott?"  
Scott looked down. "Ororo is doing what she can. She says that the storm is pretty powerful, and she doesn't know if she can stop it entirely, but it's easing up now."  
"Good."  
"Yeah. And Jean said we... we couldn't find him. He's not in the building."  
Charles nodded. "I suspected as much. I'm searching for him outside the mansion now. If he's conscious, or if he multiplies himself, I should be able to find him with ease."  
"And... if he's not, or he doesn't?"  
Charles swallowed. "Then I won't be able to find him. I've told Logan to get ready to go outside and begin a search in case he…"

Abruptly Cerebro's alarm system began to light up, indicating a mutant power being activated within detectable range. "Good Lord..." he snapped out of his sudden shock. "Scott! Upstairs, now!"

----

Blood dripped from Kurt's nose as he reappeared in the Rec room upstairs.  
"_Ach, scheisse! Verdammt blut_..." still, cursing wouldn't get rid of the nosebleed. What he needed was food and rest – and to get either of these, he had to take care of the knabe. Looking around, his gaze settled on a large, soft-looking sofa that was not only covered with a blanket, but directly in front of the open fire.  
_Perfect_.  
Bending down, he carefully placed Jamie's limp form onto the soft cushions and pulled the blanket over him. "Guten nacht, knabe," he murmured. Rising, he turned to leave. Not enough energy for another 'port, he mused. Have to go by foot. He walked quickly toward the window.  
"HEY!"  
Kurt glanced around at once, seeing the brown haired leader of the people he'd watched before. This guy didn't look pleased at all with the world in general. In fact, he looked angry enough to kill someone. Preferably Kurt. Kurt, for his part, reacted exactly as he had been trained.

Scott was shocked enough already; the Professor had sent him up here like it was an emergency, and now there was some weirdo in the Rec room, someone he couldn't see clearly in the light of the fire. Someone with glowing yellow eyes.  
_Oh, shit_…  
Then the weirdo moved, faster than anyone he'd ever seen, except for Quicksilver. He was pulling something from a sheath at his ankle, and –  
The knife slammed into Scott's shoulder before he knew what it was. Before he could even cry out, the weirdo was cartwheeling across the room toward him.  
The very first punch knocked Scott into a very large display cabinet, and he began to black out.  
_Professor_...

Everything faded away.

----

Kurt retrieved his knife and slipped it back into its sheath. Time to go now, he decided. He ran back toward the window and was about to open it when he heard approaching voices.  
"In here, I heard a noise!"

"Was this where the Professor said to go?"  
"Open the door!"

Kurt decided not to bother with opening the window. Instead, crossing his arms over his face, he simply jumped through it, rolled over his shoulder when he hit the snow, and came up running.

_Great_, he thought. _Now they're hunting me_.  
_This is just wonderful._  
When Jean opened the door, she took in several things at once. The first was the very recently smashed window with the dark figure running away. The second was Scott lying unconscious in a pool of blood and smashed china. The third, which was no less astonishing than either of the others, was the small figure lying on the couch.

_What the_...

"Jamie?"

----

Hank washed his large, furry hands in the sink as he spoke to the Professor. "Scott will be alright in a few days. The wound in his shoulder is nothing serious – no tendons or nerves were hit, the bones aren't nicked, and no organs came even close to being damaged. It's purely a flesh wound." He shook his head. "Either Scott is the luckiest young man alive, or whoever threw that knife is a better shot than the average knife thrower in the circus – and didn't want to hurt Scott in the first place."  
Charles smiled in spite of his concern. "And of the less lucky young man? What about Jamie?"  
Hank turned to look at the professor. "He's fine. Absolutely fine. He may get a cold from being out in that snowstorm, but he was brought back here before pneumonia or frostbite had time to set in. Other than that, there's not a single scratch, bump or bruise on him."  
Ororo raised an eyebrow. "Brought back here? You think someone brought him back?"  
Hank nodded. "Kitty told me that she'd checked the Rec room only a few minutes before this happened. Jamie wasn't there. Besides, he's been unconscious for some time now."  
Ororo looked confused. "Then who found him? Everyone was accounted for..."  
Charles cut in. "Yes. Everyone – except for the individual that attacked Scott." Logan looked skeptical.  
"Chuck, the guy that beat up Scooter ain't the kind to risk his ass by pulling the Squirt out of a blizzard. It just don't make sense." Ororo nodded in agreement.  
"I would suggest," announced Hank, "that Mr. Summers' reaction to this mysterious stranger was not a good one. It is highly likely that the hermit was defending himself – or at least believed that he was doing so."  
Logan grinned. "Hermit? Don't tell me you're a believer now, Poindexter?" Hank made a rude gesture with one hand, earning a patented glare-of-death from Ororo. Charles wearily cut in.  
"Regardless of who this hermit is, he is definitely a mutant. He also seems to be benevolent, at least toward those in need. And he is evidently able to defend himself, as well as being almost paranoid in his belief that 'hunters' are after him." Ororo looked surprised.  
"How do you know that?" she asked.  
Charles smiled. "I am not the world's most powerful telepath for nothing, Ororo. I was able to pick that up when this hermit panicked at Scott's intrusion." He wheeled his chair back, and turned toward the door. "I also know, from my own deduction, that there is a mutant nearby that needs our help. Logan, come with me. We'd best see what can be done about this."

He left.

Logan took a step toward the door, then turned toward Hank. "He does exist, Poindexter. Pay up."

Hank glared daggers at the burly Canadian, dug a twenty-dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it over. Logan grinned and hurried after Charles whilst Ororo gave Hank a _what-were-you-thinking_ glare. The large blue mutant withered under the weather witch's gaze.  
"What? You didn't believe him either..."  
Ororo shook her head and left as well.


	4. Chapter 4

Across an ocean, a middle aged man sat alone in a room and read some official-looking forms that were piled on his desk. A knock on his door didn't startle him – he gave no indication of even having heard it.

A voice called from outside in the hall. "Sir?"  
The middle-aged man glanced up from the papers on his desk and answered with a very British accent. "Come in."  
A soldier dressed in black with a powerful-looking pistol in a holster at his side entered the room and closed the door behind him. "We just received a report from the control division. Their tracking consoles just picked up a very interesting signal."  
The man behind the desk raised an eyebrow. "And?"  
The soldier gave a grim smile. "Subject 01500-4127 just activated his powers. We have his location now, sir."  
A gasp. "Are you sure? You've found 4127?"  
The soldier nodded. "He's in America, sir. Near a city called 'Bayville', sir."  
The man stood up from his chair. "Assemble a team. I want everything we've got, and stock up on the tranquilizers." He smiled. "And release Trinity."  
The soldier paled. "Sir, are... are you sure about that last one?"  
"Yes. With 4127's training, we'll never catch him if he gets a chance to fight back. Trinity is the only one with a chance of keeping him distracted for more than a few minutes, if it comes to that."  
The soldier swallowed. "Yes, sir."  
"I want the team ready within the hour. I'm coming too – I want to see 4127 myself when we capture him. You are excused." The soldier saluted and left.

The strange man moved to his window and looked out over the western horizon. _I've got you now, my boy... You won't escape me again_.

And with that thought, Dr Francis Baine left his office and prepared to leave for America with the rest of the Genetex assault team.

----

The assembled members of the institute sat around the table in the dining room. They weren't eating dinner; they were discussing recent developments. In one small group sat Bobby, Rahne, Amara, Jubilee and Jamie, the latter of whom was wrapped in a blanket and being virtually interrogated by the former quartet on what, exactly, had happened to him. Kitty, Evan, Rogue, Jean and Scott sat in another group. Scott had his injured arm in a sling and a scowl on his face; Evan was suggesting that perhaps Jamie was a better team leader since his PR skills eclipsed those of Scott; and the others were alternating between ooohing over the injured Scott and looking nervously out the windows.  
At the head of the table sat a grinning Logan, smoking an expensive cigar and smirking victoriously at Hank. He was flanked by Charles, who looked concerned with the world in general and the present in particular, Hank the aforementioned loser of the bet, and Ororo, who had a long-suffering expression on her face as she watched Hank sulking. Finally, Charles cleared his throat and spoke.

"All right. We all know why we're here, don't we?" There was a general murmur of assent, and Charles continued. "This is a serious issue. Whilst the hermit, whoever he may be, is evidently benevolent enough to have helped Jamie, he's an extremely dangerous individual."  
"No shit," muttered Scott. Charles glared at him and continued.  
"In any event, he is a mutant – Cerebro has confirmed it – and he needs our help. As such, we are going to do what we can. A few of us will go and search for him and attempt to calm him down, and the rest will remain here." He sighed. "I suppose there aren't any volunteers?"  
Everyone was quiet for a moment. Then Jamie spoke up. "I will," he said timidly. Charles smiled.  
"Excellent, Jamie. I was going to ask you, anyway; it's likely he'll trust you more than the rest of us after having saved your life. For the rest of you, I was hoping that Rahne, Evan and Amara would accompany Ororo and Hank on a search for him."  
Rahne spoke up. "And why us? We're not exactly the best bet fer dealin' with a loon in the woods..."  
"No, you're not," replied Charles. "And you are not intended to fight this hermit, only to aid him. You, Rahne, can track him... Evan is a boy about the hermit's own age... Hank is an example of someone who has undergone physical changes... Ororo is the most 'motherly' figure we have here, which should appeal to the hermit's damaged psyche... and Amara can speak German, which as I understood the hermit's mind is his native tongue. He doesn't seem to speak much English."  
Kitty raised an eyebrow. "Amara? Where did you learn to speak German?"  
Amara sniffed. "A princess is ever an ambassador for her people, peasant. As such I am virtually fluent in half a dozen different languages – among them, German."  
"Then it's agreed, yes? Good." Charles wheeled himself away from the table. "Get ready – you'd best leave as soon as possible." He left.

The other mutants looked at each other, and began to disperse. "Poindexter," called Logan.  
Hank sighed and turned around. "Yes, Logan?"  
"Don't make any bets while you're up there. The hermit might get a little offended at you trying to convince him he doesn't exist..."  
Hank scowled, then reached out and snatched away Logan's cigar before knuckling off at a rapid pace. A moment later, there was the sound of a flushing toilet. Logan cursed.  
"This means war..."

----

Dr. Baine leaned over the pilot's shoulder and squinted out into the night ahead.  
"Can't this bucket of bolts move any faster?" he barked.  
"I'm sorry sir," replied the pilot automatically. "We're fighting the wind, and if we move any faster there's a good chance we'll crash."  
"How good a chance?"  
The pilot blinked. "Uuuh... five to one, sir?"  
Baine considered for a moment. "Increase our speed. 4127 will know that we're coming, and he may have already left. We need be there already, not in six hours."  
"But sir..."  
Baine regarded him coldly. "Are you questioning my orders? Very well, how about this – if we make it there in time, you will be rewarded. If not, you will be punished. Severely. Oh, and one other reason to increase your speed: Trinity is getting restless. I'm sure I don't need to remind you of the implications of that."  
The plane increased its speed rapidly. Baine laughed and walked to the back of the plane, to a large holding pen built into the cargo bay. Lights flashed on its sides, indicating the presence of power dampers; a small, barred window was built into the door. Baine walked up to this window and called into the cell.

"Trinity? Are you in there, my little pet?"  
A deep, hoarse whisper answered him. "We wait. Revenge. We want revenge on the demon, yes."  
Baine smiled coldly. "And you will have it. You will be the one to capture him, Trinity. Won't that be nice?"  
"Yeeessss..."  
Baine walked away, lost in thought.  
_What a team the two would make... pity they're enemies. Oh well – after this, we'll know which one is the better fighter, at any rate_. He looked at his watch. _4127... what are you doing now, my boy?_

----

At present, Kurt was in his cave. He was kneeling. His knife lay on one side of him, ready to be snatched up. On the other side lay a long, curved sword.  
Kurt was praying feverently.  
He was also waiting for the hunters to come. He knew they were coming, and he knew they were expecting him to run. He'd always run before. He'd had to fight, sometimes, but then he'd only made them back off and then escaped.  
Not any more. Kurt was never going to run again.  
This time, the hunters would learn to leave him alone. For good.  
Unconsciously, his tail curled around the hilt of the sword at his side.

----

"How much further?" Complained Amara. The 'search party' had almost reached the turnaround point for the morning run, with Rahne leading the way and sniffing at the ground. Rahne turned her lupine head and transformed her vocal chords enough to answer.  
"It's nae far. We're almost at the point where we lost Jamie, and from there we just follow his scent until it crosses paths with the hermit."  
"Fine with me, man," announced Evan. "I'm freezing off my finely-toned..."  
"Evan!"  
"...Uh... muscles? Sorry, Auntie O."  
They trudged on, until eventually Rahne jumped back with a whine.  
Jamie knelt and rubbed the top of her head. "Rahne? Are you okay?"  
"Aaaah... aye, Jamie, it's just... oh, dear Lord, what a stink!" Rahne rubbed her nose with her lupine paws whilst Hank knuckled over and sniffed the ground.  
"Sulfur? What on earth would a pile of sulfur be doing out here?"  
"Or in the Rec room," added Evan. "Logan said he could smell some in there, and even Jamie smelled a bit like it, too. Could be something to do with this dude's power..."

Rahne coughed. "It's nae important. I've got the lad's scent, and it's easy to follow since he stinks of the stuff, too. Let's get on with it, then."

_Charles_? Ororo sent out a mental request.  
_Yes, Ororo_?  
_Rahne has his scent. We're getting close_.  
_Excellent. Notify me when you find him..._

As it was, they continued their snowbound trek for another hour before they came to their destination – a tunnel leading into a sheer cliff face, the area bare of trees in a 20-metre radius around the cave as though shying away from whatever dwelled within. Sitting inside the entrance to the cave was an animal bone; more specifically, a deer's skull. Jamie looked nervous.  
"Why did he put that there?"  
Amara agreed. "If the hermit did not wish to be found, why would he mark his –ugh- dwelling with THAT?"  
"It's not a marking," said Hank softly. "And it's not a greeting."  
Ororo blinked. "Then what is it?" she asked.  
"A threat. A warning not to enter the cave."  
Fearful glances passed between the group, before Amara swallowed. "Well, let's do what we came here for..." she strode purposefully up to the cave, but slowed as she heard a voice, faint as a whisper.  
"..._Dein Reich komme. Dein Wille geschehe auf Erden wie in Himmel. Unser täglich Brot gib uns heute_..."  
Amara wasn't a catholic, but she knew those words as well as anyone with a worldly education would. She turned to the others. "He... he's praying..." The others looked blank, so she continued. "The hermit. He's in the cave, and he's reciting the Lord's Prayer."  
Hank drew in his breath sharply. "Well, that's something – if he's religious, maybe he'll believe that we only want to help him?"  
Rahne shook her head. "I dinnae think so. Mos' people only recite the Lord's prayer when they're on their deathbed. I think he's prepping himself up fer somethin'."  
Hank tried to reply to that, but a sudden explosive sound of Jet engines drowned out the sound of his words. As one, the group looked up at the sky.  
_What the hell_?

----

Inside his cave, Kurt also heard the roar of the jets. He'd been aware of the hunters outside his cave for some time now, but had hoped to finish his prayer before acting. Now, he'd run out of time.  
_Nothing left to do now but risk it..._ he decided.  
Death was, in any event, better than being trapped and taken back to Genetex.

Kurt scooped up his blades and ran toward the cave entrance.


	5. Chapter 5

"YAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

As one, the heads of the search party snapped up as Kurt's war cry tore through the air like that of a mortally wounded foghorn. The shout was closely followed by a hurtling blue ball of devastation, who practically flew out of the mouth of the cave. Perhaps because Hank was the bigger target, Kurt leapt at him first; the sword traced a shallow cut across the bigger mutant's ribs, and a spinning kick sent him flying backwards.  
Ororo was next. She watched, dumbfounded, as Kurt backflipped off Hank's chest through the air toward her, and never even had time to dodge as a foot slammed into her solar plexus. The pain cleared her mind, however, and she suddenly raised one hand. A bolt of lightning shot from her palm and hurtled toward Kurt, who promptly teleported. Rahne had, unfortunately, been standing behind Kurt. The blast knocked her back into the rock wall, where she resumed her human form an instant before passing out. Ororo never saw this happen, however; she was already unconscious. Kurt reappeared behind her and struck two kicks to her head before he even landed.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"  
Evan slammed bodily into Kurt's back as he landed lightly on the ground, forcing Kurt away from his aunt. A shove sent Kurt rolling away, while Evan stopped and focused his powers. Bony plates grew and covered his skin; bone spikes sprouted from his shoulders, elbows, knees, and the backs of his hands; and a single projectile flew at Kurt and grazed his shoulder, just enough to draw blood. "You want a fight, freakshow? Bring it on!"  
Kurt growled and pounced. His first blows had no effect; the sword and knife simply glanced off Spyke's bony carapace. Evan fought back; he drew blood again in a small scratch along Kurt's face. Swinging wildly now, he pressed his advantage, forcing Kurt back. Kurt parried swiftly, causing tiny fragments and shards of bone to fly everywhere at each blow traded between the combatants. Suddenly, Kurt changed his tactics; switching the knife to his tail and gripping the sword in both hands, he leaped high into the air and slammed the long sword down on Evan's head. Hard. The blade bit deeply into the bone shield; not quite penetrating, but stunning Evan nonetheless. As the younger mutant fell back, helpless, Kurt steeled himself. Evan's eyes were not protected; they were a vulnerability. Kurt sighted along the blade and prepared to ram it into Evan's brain.

_This must be done_, he told himself. _Make them realize you won't go back to that place_...  
_NO_! screamed another part of his mind. _He's helpless now, he's beaten! This is wrong_!  
_You must_, said half of him.  
_You must not_, said the other half.  
_It is for your own survival!  
And the price you'll pay is your own humanity!  
Imprisonment in Genetex!  
Thou Shalt Not Kill!  
_  
The inner debate lasted for no more than a few seconds, but for Kurt – and Evan, who watched through horrified but unfortunately vulnerable eyes – it went on for an eternity. Finally, Kurt lowered his sword. He was not a killer, no matter how hard he tried: there was no way he could kill a helpless man, even to save his own life.  
Then he noticed movement off to one side. Turning, he saw Amara, burning brightly and trying desperately not to look afraid, standing behind Jamie, who was armed with Evan's single bone projectile.  
"Let him go!" squeaked Jamie, who was trying to ignore the quiver he heard in his own voice.  
Kurt looked around, for the first time taking in the full depth of his surroundings. His astonished gaze lingered for a moment on Hank, who was slowly getting up, before returning his attention to Jamie – the boy he'd rescued. It made no sense that this boy would be hunting him. He shook his head.

"_Vas in der teufel's namen_?"

----

In the mansion at the base of the hills, a similarly one-sided battle was taking place. The Genetex soldiers were highly trained, and each man specialized in combating and capturing mutants. Armed with tranquilizers and stun guns as they were, the crack team of highly elite troops were more than a match for the totally unprepared X-Men.

Logan was, ironically, the first to go down. He charged the soldiers seconds after they disembarked the jet and managed to knock one or two unconscious; then he collapsed with three darts in his back and burn marks on his chest from the stun guns.  
With methodical precision, the troops moved through the institute one room at a time. None of the students were able to offer any resistance – they never had time. The soldiers burst doors open, fired into the rooms, and left as their targets were still recoiling from the strike of the darts. Not one of the eighteen remaining soldiers received so much as a scratch. Within ten minutes, the mutants were mostly unconscious and entirely helpless.  
The last one captured was Professor Charles Xavier, finally held at gunpoint in his own study by no less than five troops – and Dr Baine himself.

----

Baine turned to his men.  
"4127 isn't here. Release Trinity and use him to continue the search over a wider area." One soldier saluted and left the room. Baine turned back to look at Charles. "And why don't we have a little chat, hmmm?" He noticed the tea tray on Charles' desk. "May I?"  
Charles looked at him coldly. "Be my guest. How do you take it – cream? Sugar? Lemon? Iodine...?"  
Baine smiled. "You're brave in the face of adversity, my friend. I like that in an opponent." He poured himself a cup of tea. "Allow me to introduce myself... my name is Dr. Francis Baine. I am head of a biological research center known as Genetex in western Germany, though I myself was educated at Oxford University..." He looked inquiringly at Charles. "And you?"  
"I am Professor Charles Xavier," replied Charles stiffly. "Since you wouldn't really care about my education or life's achievements, and I don't particularly wish to tell you about either, I'll forgo the formalities. What are you doing here, why have you gunned down my students and staff, and who or what is 4127?"  
Baine's answer was interrupted by a knock on the door and a nervous- sounding voice calling through it. "Dr. Baine?" Baine looked up at the sound of his name.  
"Yes, commander?"  
"We've brought Trinity here, sir. He's waiting to see you now."  
Baine drained the last of his tea. "Excellent. Send him in... oh, and while you're at it, get me one of the younger mutants we caught. The tall one with his arm in a sling."  
Charles glared at him. "What do you want with my students?" he repeated.  
Baine smiled benignly. "Why Xavier, isn't it obvious? I want to re-enlist an old student of my own..."  
His voice trailed off as heavy footsteps approached the door. "And speaking of my students, here's my star pupil now. Come in, Trinity," he called.

Charles wasn't a religious man, but he had to fight the urge to cross himself as 'Trinity' entered. The man – at least, the thing looked male – was the most horrifying, deformed beast Charles had ever seen.  
Had Logan been in the room, he would have likely compared the monstrosity to Sabretooth. Sabretooth, however, wasn't this big. Trinity bordered on eight feet, and his arms hung low like Hank's. His mouth was full of teeth that were the size and shape of steak knives, all curving in like those of a shark. At the ends of his fingers curled long claws, and those arms... the muscles strained against Trinity's black uniform as though about to break through. A bestial face, framed by dank, light-brown hair that hung to Trinity's shoulders, was shaped into a perpetual grimace, and the eyes glowed a hateful red, with no pupils or whites visible. Almost absurdly out of place were the large, white-feathered wings on Trinity's back, looking for all the world as though the beast had stolen them from an angel. They, Charles realized, were likely the reason for his religious-sounding callsign.  
Charles sent out a questing mental probe, but recoiled from what he found; a seething ball of hatred and anger. Charles braced himself and probed deeper into Trinity's mind. Memories of pain, suffering, torture, every imaginable injustice and mistreatment were heaped upon the Professor, but he persevered. Finally, in the very center of Trinity's mind, Charles found something; a deep sadness, an aching regret. This tiny shred of self-pity was all that remained of the human being that Trinity once was.  
This creature was, in every sense of the word, a monster.

Trinity lumbered into the room, stopped before Dr. Baine, and bowed his head.  
"Massster..." Trinity's voice was more of a deep-throated growl than anything else. Dr. Baine smiled broadly.  
"Trinity, this is Professor Charles Xavier. He's the one that's been harboring 4127."  
"We hhaaaaaate the Demon..."  
"Yes, Trinity, we do. But now, we're going to find him. Isn't that nice?"  
"We wait..."  
"Good." Baine turned to face Charles. "What do you think of my little pet, Xavier?"  
Charles found his voice at last. "What... what did you do to him, you... you fiend?" he spat.  
Baine frowned. "I perfected him. When I found Trinity, he was a spoiled little rich brat – damn me now, what was his name..." he snapped his fingers. "Worthington! That was it, Worthington! Just a foolish little snob that wouldn't have beaten an infant in a fight. And now..." he turned to his creation. "... have you ever seen a finer warrior?"  
Charles shuddered at the thought of what must have been done to the boy that Trinity had once been. "I don't know who the greater monster is here, Baine. You or your demon."  
Baine whirled around. "Trinity is _not_ my demon, Xavier. My _demon_ is why I've come here. 4127 is my demon, and I WANT HIM BACK! Now, if not sooner!"  
Charles looked defiant. "And what did you do to him? To 4127?"  
Baine looked regretful. "Nothing. _Yet_. I don't perform experimental enhancements on mutants until I know of all their abilities. 4127 escaped the same day that his abilities manifested, so he's still very much the way he was born. I didn't make 4127 different, Xavier. God did that. Now I want 4127 back so I can finish what God started."

The door suddenly opened and a pair of guards entered dragging the unconscious Scott. "Ah!" Exclaimed Baine. "Perfect timing!" The guards deposited Scott's form on the carpet, glanced nervously at Trinity, and left. Baine looked at Charles once more. "One of yours, Xavier?"  
When Charles did not answer, Baine gave a cold smile and continued. "I told you that I enjoyed a courageous opponent, Xavier. That's because men with courage always have to be heroes, and although heroes can 'take one for the team', as it were, they can never abide the suffering of others. As such, I know you'd rather sell out than watch one of your students die in front of you." As Baine beckoned to his creation, Trinity lumbered forward, lifted Scott in one huge claw, and held him off the ground at arm's length.  
"You are going to tell me where 4127 is, Xavier, or Trinity here will show this young man exactly what he is capable of..."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: brackets denote foreign language. In this case, German.

----------------------------------------------------------

"Oooooh... my head..."

Ororo opened her eyes and almost had a heart attack at the sight of Evan's face less than a foot away from hers. As she did so, her nephew's face split into a broad grin.  
"Auntie O!" he crowed, and promptly seized her in a bear hug. She hugged him back at first, not really sure what had happened, then pulled away and regarded the boy at arm's length.  
"Evan, what happened? The hermit..."  
Evan gestured to one side. "Amara's talking to him over there. She says he thought we were trying to kill him, so he jumped us. It was just a misunderstanding." He shook his head. "The dude's paranoid, but he sure packs a punch..."  
Ororo followed Evan's gaze. Hank, his chest covered in a crude bandage made from strips torn off his shirt, was working to revive Rahne. Nearby, Amara was engaged in a rapid-fire German conversation with the young blue mutant, while Jamie stood nearby paying rapt attention as though he could understand every word.  
"... his name's Kurt, by the way."

----

Kurt shook his head. "This is all my fault," he said, mostly to himself. He looked up at Amara. "Everything that has happened to you, to your friends... I caused it all by being here." Amara said nothing, so Kurt continued. "Baine has no sense of compassion, mercy, humanity... we have to stop him or you'll never see your companions again."  
Amara did a double take. "We? You would involve yourself in this?"  
"I am already involved," Kurt pointed out. "Besides... I've been trained to take out Baine's soldiers. I know how they fight, how to beat them. Without me, you won't stand a chance."  
"Oh, well then, you've convinced me, peasant, you truly have," commented Amara dryly. "But I'm afraid the others whom you tried to kill won't be quite so forgiving."  
Kurt looked away, tears stinging the backs of his eyes. "I know," he whispered. "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I dare not ask for it. All I want is the chance to make things right. After that, I will leave if I must, but until then..." he met the Nova Roman princess's eyes. "... until then, I have a responsibility to do what I can. Please, come with me. I'll need you to translate to your friends." With that, Kurt strode purposefully away toward the others. Jamie, who hadn't the slightest idea what had been said, looked at Amara for enlightenment. Amara simply shrugged and hurried to catch up with the blue mutant.

----

"...and he wants to make up for what he perceives to be a chain of events that he set in motion. As such, he has offered his services to us in order to expel the intruders from the Institute."  
Rahne groaned and opened her eyes. The blue hermit was standing between Amara and Jamie with a determined expression on his face. Hank, Ororo, and Evan were standing opposite them with speculative looks on their faces.  
"How does he know that there are intruders at the Institute?" Hank wanted to know. "There's no way he could be aware of something like that, is there?"  
Once Amara had relayed Hank's objection, Kurt began to speak in German again, and Amara once again translated. "Kurt used his abilities inside the mansion. The Genetex agents have devices that can track mutants who have used their powers, so they would look for Kurt at the place his powers were activated. The jets that flew overhead were the soldiers arriving, and by now they've probably got the entire Institute under their control."  
Kurt paused, then looked away before continuing. Amara slowly turned pale as she continued, but managed to translate what was said. "If Baine has come for him – and he would have – then the others will be... tortured until... they tell the soldiers where to find Kurt. If they don't get the information they want, then they'll start searching again. The residual effect of Kurt's teleporting just now would still show on their devices, so they'd check them... and it's just a... matter of... time... before they come for us..." Amara's voice broke off with a terrified whimper.  
"So." There was an edge of steel in Ororo's voice that none of the others had heard before. "He's going to help us because he's got nothing to lose."  
Kurt understood the tone if not the words, and answered for himself. "_Ja_." He turned to Amara and said something else, but Amara did not immediately translate it.  
"Amara?" prompted Hank.  
Amara's reply was soft. "He seeks forgiveness from God for the sins that took away his humanity."  
Rahne finally spoke. "An' what sins would those be?"  
Amara's translation came with a wistful smile. "He wishes he knew. He's been asking God the same question ever since he came here."

Rahne struggled to unsteady feet and continued. "Aye, an' even if we believe that, why should we trust him when he's tried to kill us? Eh, demon?"  
Kurt's temper flared ever so slightly. "_Ich bin KEIN Teufel_!" he growled. "_Ich bin Romani_."  
Jamie looked at Amara. "Huh?"  
"I'm not a demon, I'm Romani," reported Amara.  
"What does that have to do with anything?" Hank asked, confused.  
Amara resumed speaking for Kurt. "There is an oath that Kurt will swear by, a Romani oath that no-one of his people would ever break. It is an oath of friendship and trust in times of difficulty." Here she paused in her translations. "He wants me to translate this next part exactly..."

----

Kurt held out his right hand, palm up. Speaking slowly for Amara's benefit, he made eye contact with those around him as he spoke. "There is a barrier between us; let it be cast aside. There is blood that stains the ground where we stand; let the rains wash it away. Yesterday we cared not for one another; today, let us begin to care."  
"To do what we know must be done, we will stand by one another. I will pledge my life to yours and yours to mine, sacrificing what little we have for the good of the people. This day and in the days to come, I will stand fast by your side – until again we stand alone."  
Jamie caught on first. Placing his smaller hand on top of Kurt's strange, three-fingered one, he replied firmly, "Until we stand alone."  
Amara was next: "Until we stand alone."  
One by one, Hank, Evan, Ororo and finally Rahne added their pledge to the oath. When the oath had been made, Kurt gave a faint smile and withdrew his hand. Stepping back, he spoke quickly to Amara, then turned and began to walk away.

"Uh... Amara?" prompted Evan.  
Amara shrugged. "He said, 'Let's go'." The small group looked at each other and, with nothing else for them to do, began to follow their strange new ally down the side of the mountain.

----

Scott groaned as he slowly woke up. Noticing his glasses weren't on, he groped for them on the bedside table with one hand.  
His hand met nothing but air; no glasses, not even a table. Also, he realized, he wasn't lying down in bed. He was, judging by the pain in his legs and the blood rushing to his head, hanging upside down in the air. Then he remembered; he'd been sitting on the couch talking to Jean men dressed in black uniforms had burst in holding guns. Then... it all got kind of confusing.  
_Oh, Shit. Shitshitshitshit..._

"Welcome back to the land of the living," an unfamiliar and very English voice greeted him. "And I hope you enjoy it whilst you can, because unless your mentor here tells me what I want to know, you won't be staying here very long."  
Charles' voice came to him. "Stay calm, Scott. Everything is fine..."  
Scott, mentally cursing his inability to see, found his voice. "Professor? What's happening?"  
The English voice ignored him. "As far as this young man is concerned, Xavier, things are anything but fine. Trinity, if you please...?"  
Scott felt himself being lifted. He let out a small groan of disorientation and apprehension, before...

**CRUNCH**

Scott screamed aloud. Knives, or something equally painful, were tearing into him. Right into his already sore shoulder, slicing into his flesh. He struggled wildly and felt the grip on his ankles begin to slip. Something nearby snarled, and suddenly the grip on his ankles was released. Scott, blood streaming from his shoulder, landed hard on his head, and was knocked unconscious for the third time in under twenty-four hours.

----

Charles bit his lips and looked away, closing his eyes. _Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't this man just leave them in peace?  
_"Alright," he said wearily. "What do you want me to tell you? I'm afraid that none of my students go by the name '4127', so if you could provide me with a bit more information – and perhaps a doctor for my student..."  
"He'll get one later," snapped Baine. "But, now that you're cooperating, the young man I am looking for is rather distinctive. He is German – Romani, to be precise – and has numerous physical mutations. I can't give you a name, as I'm afraid I never bothered to learn it."  
Charles nodded. "What kind of physical mutations?" he asked.  
"4127 looks, ironically enough, like a demon. He has digridade legs, prehensile tridactyl feet, equally tridactyl hands, pointed ears, fangs, and a two-foot-long prehensile tail with a spade tip. His musculature is extremely enhanced, to the point where he can perform feats of agility and dexterity that no ordinary human being could hope to achieve. He has a metabolism like that of 10 men, luminous eyes that grant him perfect and total night vision, the ability to stick to and climb the surface of virtually any substance, even to the point of walking upside down on the roof. He can also become invisible in shadows, and teleport himself, although I don't know if these are the extent of his abilities. Most striking of all, however, is his coat of fur; a beautiful shade of dark blue, if I may say so." Baine ended his list. "Complete enough for you?"  
Charles wiped the impressive mental image he'd been constructing from his mind. "Physically? It's complete enough for me to tell you, with certainty, that the individual you are searching for is not a resident of this Institute. He is neither one of my students or staff, and I personally cannot ever recall laying eyes upon someone who would fit that rather striking description."  
Trinity growled. "He liessss... yessss... we smell the Demon. The demon was here, yesss..."  
Baine raised an eyebrow. "I'd tend to believe Trinity more than you, Xavier. Try again, or we'll see if you're more attached to another student than you were to this one."  
Charles looked defiant. "I am not lying, Baine. As you say, I would not risk the life and well-being of any of my students. I do not know 4127. However..."  
"What?"  
He sighed. "We have recently had... difficulty... with a mutant living as a hermit in these mountains nearby. Early this morning, he was inside this building and had an... incident... with one of my students. It was because of this that Scott's arm was in a sling when you brought him here."  
Baine regarded Charles coolly. "And where is this hermit now?"  
"I don't know," admitted Charles. "However, I might be able to find him if you will let me try..."  
"How?" asked Baine. "If you don't know him, and you've never met him, and you don't know where he is, how could you possibly find him?"  
Charles looked at Baine as if he were an idiot. "I am a mutant too, Baine. Since all cards are on the table, you may as well know that."  
"Thank you."  
"My ability is telepathy. I may be able to locate 4127's mind, if I knew what to search for. You've told me what 4127 is like, physically. Now I need to know his mind, and then I will find him if I can."  
Baine looked surprised. "You would do that?"  
"As you pointed out, Baine, I have no choice," replied Charles acidly. "I will turn over a stranger rather than one of my students. Now then," he continued, "strong emotions are best for finding someone. What would 4127's strongest emotion be?"  
Baine allowed himself a victorious smirk. "Guilt. When 4127 escaped, he immediately headed for his home town in Germany. Trinity beat him there and vented some frustration by killing 4127's family. 4127 arrived just in time to watch it happen. Now the boy blames himself for leading Trinity there." Baine nodded. "If you want to find 4127, search for feelings of strong guilt and a deep hatred of my dear Trinity, here."

Charles sighed wearily. "Alright. I'll do what I can. By the way," he added, "this will be easier, and therefore more likely to succeed, if I'm not concerned with other matters. Could you have someone tend to my student now, please?"  
Baine turned to one of the soldiers standing around the room. "Medic," he ordered, "see to the boy. Take him to the hospital wing we found in the eastern side of the building."  
Charles sighed inwardly with relief. His little ruse had worked; Scott was being tended to, the other students and Logan were safe, at least for the moment, and he was free to engage in telepathy.  
Of course, he was _not_ looking for this mysterious 4127.

_Hank...?_

----

The search party waded through the snow. They were in a mostly close group, and were asking the occasional question of their new ally. Evan in particular was impressed; not many people were able to beat Evan when he was mad, but Kurt had managed it without raising a sweat. Now, Evan addressed Amara, since Kurt couldn't understand him. "Where did he learn to fight like that?"  
Amara asked Kurt the question, and answered in English for him. "At Genetex. The laboratories exist for the purpose of finding the genetic makeup of the perfect soldier; they take a mutant, test their limits and abilities, then perform experimental enhancements on them. Kurt escaped before any experimenting could take place, but they still trained him to be a soldier in order to see how powerful he could naturally become."  
The others digested this. Finally, Rahne spoke. "An' how long ago did tha' happen?"  
"A while," came the belated reply. "Kurt has lost track of time, but at a guess he'd say eighteen months since he came to this country, and at least another six before that."  
"How did he come to the country?" Hank wanted to know.  
"He stowed away on a plane," replied Amara after Kurt had told her so. "Jumped onto a wing as it took off and hung on as it came to the country. One of Kurt's abilities seems to be clinging to sheer surfaces, and so he was a able to hold on despite the wind against him."  
"Two years..." whispered Ororo. She spoke to Amara. "Does his family know where he is?"  
Amara asked Kurt, and when no answer was forthcoming she repeated the question. Slowly, Kurt replied, his answer making Amara turn pale. Before the others could ask what had been said, Amara translated.  
"His family are... dead. When Kurt... escaped from Genetex, he... ran home. One of the Genetex test subjects was waiting for him there, one whose mind had been broken by Baine's experimentation." Amara's voice cracked as she said something Kurt had not. "Kurt blames himself for this."

A shocked silence greeted this revelation, before Hank suddenly stopped dead and gasped. "It's Charles," he informed the others. While Amara explained this to Kurt, the others waited impatiently while Hank and Charles exchanged information. Soon, Hank opened his eyes and regarded them all. He filled them in on what had happened at the mansion. "The Genetex agents have control of the Institute. They are holding Charles prisoner and using the others as hostages to force him to help them. They want Kurt. Along with 20 soldiers, the head scientist of Genetex, Francis Baine, is here, as is a test subject known as Trinity..."  
At the sound of that three-syllable name, Kurt let out a tiny gasp. "Trinity..." he whispered. At Amara's prompting, he described Trinity for the others, ending with a simple explanation of their relationship: "He killed my family."

Kurt shook his head, and spoke rapidly and forcefully to Amara. As she translated for the others, Kurt swiftly outlined the methods they would use to force out their invaders.

----

At the Institute, Charles opened his eyes. According to Hank, they were half a mile due west of the Institute and approaching fast. Now, Charles spoke to his British tormentor.  
"4127 is near a camping ground toward the beaches. Three miles, due East," he informed Baine. Baine smiled evilly and nodded toward Trinity. The behemoth lumbered toward the large windows, exited, and took flight.  
"For your sake, Xavier," mused Baine, "and those of your students, I hope he finds 4127."  
_And for all our sakes_, thought Charles,_ I pray that he does not_.

Looking out the window at Trinity's figure headed for the horizon, Charles sighed.

_If this doesn't work, we are all in a lot of trouble_, he mused. _Come on, Hank_...


	7. Chapter 7

The four Genetex soldiers stood guard around the jet. They did not speak to one another, nor did they at any time lower their guns or their guard. They were impassive, professional. They were the best soldiers that money could buy.  
They were also totally unprepared for the sudden attack that came next.

A bolt of lightning shot out of the dark, snow-bearing clouds in the sky. It struck one soldier full in the chest, knocking him unconscious. His neighbor was suddenly thrown backwards by a gale-force wind that picked up out of nowhere and was slammed into the body of the plane.  
While the other two guards were still recovering from their shock, a young man wearing strange white armour leaped out into the clearing and sprinted toward them. The soldiers fired their dart guns, but the relatively low- velocity darts merely deflected of the young man's bony hide. Behind them, three more figures ran out of the trees; one large, blue and ape-like, one small, blue and demonic, and one fierce-looking red wolf. Demoralized, the soldiers turned to retreat, only to have their escape blocked by a wall of fire that shot up out of the snow. The attacking figures converged on the soldiers, and within seconds had rendered their opponents unconscious.  
"Cool," commented Evan.

From the treeline, Ororo, Amara and Jamie stepped into the clearing. As the others watched, Jamie wandered over, picked up a dart gun from one of the fallen soldiers, held it in one hand, and used the other hand to slap himself firmly in the chest. Immediately, two more Jamies appeared, wearing identical clothing and wielding identical guns.  
"_Ja_," agreed Kurt. "Cool." He glanced sideways at Evan, checking he'd said it right.  
Evan grinned to show he had.

----

Ten minutes later, another assault took place. This one was at the Institute itself, some five hundred meters from the jet. This time, there were no ambushes, no charges from two sides, no bizarre weather phenomenae. Instead, there was a hail of dozens upon dozens of tranquilizer darts fired from the trees, behind banks of snow and parked vehicles, from every available hiding place. What the shooter seemed to lack in skill and aim, he more than made up for in enthusiasm and force of numbers; all six soldiers standing guard outside the mansion were struck numerous times and collapsed without a sound. Therefore, after Jamie had rejoined with his multiples, the small band entered the mansion without being seen by anyone.  
The X-Men were taking back their home.  
Moving through the mansion faster and more silently than the Genetex soldiers had earlier, Evan, Hank, Rahne and Jamie swiftly dealt with the remaining soldiers inside the Institute and began to revive the prisoners. With Ororo and Amara leading the way and Kurt following, the remaining trio made their way to Professor Xavier's private study.

Inside the room, Baine and the remaining three guards waited with Charles. Everyone except Charles was blissfully unaware of the drama taking place in the rest of the building, and none more so than Baine himself.  
"... and if Trinity doesn't find 4127 out there, Xavier, I warn you that I will have to act. There is only so much that I can tolerate from you and your students –" Baine glowered at his captive "– and if you have lied to me, then your dear pupil Scott will be the first to die!"  
Charles did not flinch. "Is that so?"  
"Yes, it is!" Baine was becoming furious at his inability to intimidate this man, and the strain was showing in his voice. "Understand me, Xavier! I have come here to find 4127 and **I WANT HIM HERE RIGHT NOW**!!!"  
Suddenly, Charles' face broke into a benign smile. "Well now, Francis, you know what they say; Be careful what you wish for..."  
As Charles paused, the door exploded open and three very irate-looking mutants bounded in.  
"... because it just might come true."  
As Ororo and Amara dealt with the three very frightened-looking guards, Kurt snarled viciously at Baine and pounced. The force of his leap was so powerful that it sent both of them smashing through a nearby window and sprawling into the snow outside.

----

Trinity was angry. Well, he was almost always angry, but now he was furious. The demon was not where the chair-man had said. The chair-man had lied. Trinity wanted to kill something, anything, but there had been nothing to kill. Instead, he had swiftly flown back to the big house where Master and chair-man waited. He could, after all, find something to kill there.

From two hundred feet up, he could clearly see the big house. As he watched, two figures fell out of the side and into the snow.  
One was the demon. The other was Master. The demon was killing Master.  
The sea of hatred and fury that was Trinity's ravaged mind, now augmented by frustration, boiled over. The demon had to die or Master would be killed.  
With an incoherent war-cry, Trinity fell into a steep dive and dropped, screaming madly, toward the demon.

----

Hearing Trinity's scream, Kurt dove aside at the last possible second. Trinity landed heavily on all fours but rounded swiftly for someone with such huge bulk and roared at Kurt.  
All of a sudden, in his mind's eye, Kurt saw a similar scene again...

_It was twilight, and it was raining. The mob had been chasing Kurt and Stefan; Jimaine was already dead. Out of desperation, Kurt had teleported with Stefan to a place almost two miles away that they had gone together sometimes when they were younger. The effect had knocked them both unconscious, but now Kurt was waking up. Someone was fighting nearby.  
Struggling into a sitting position, he looked over to the edge of the cliff. He was just in time to see Trinity lift Stefan off the ground, viciously snap his neck, and hurl the lifeless body over the edge of the abyss.  
"NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!"  
At the sound of Kurt's scream, Trinity turned toward the prone mutant. Almost in response to Kurt's cry, Trinity let loose a brutal roar of triumph. The enormous mutant began to lumber toward Kurt, snarling as he came.  
_  
With an almost audible click, the warrior instincts ingrained in his mind from his formal Genetex combat training snapped into place. Whipping his weapons out of their respective sheaths, Kurt hurled himself toward his longtime nemesis. Dodging a sledgehammer blow from one of Trinity's massive fists, Kurt ducked in close and rammed his knife into Trinity's thigh, slashed his sword across the huge monster's belly, and rolled out of the way of a powerful swing from Trinity's other hand. Trinity was strong, he was big, and he was lethal when he got the chance, but he never came close to hitting Kurt in that first swift exchange. The smaller mutant was simply too fast, a speed that was tempered by Kurt's cold anger.  
Falling back now, Kurt goaded the bigger mutant into a charge, and leaped high when Trinity was almost upon him. Reversing the grip on his blades, Kurt landed on Trinity's back and stabbed one blade deep into each shoulder, kicked Trinity in the back of the head, and flipped away: rather, he tried to flip away. Just as he left his perch, one of Trinity's wings shot up and knocked Kurt off balance. Trinity spun and sent Kurt flying with a backhand slap, then thundered after him. Kurt landed badly, hurting one shoulder, but didn't let the pain show. Instead he hurled his knife at Trinity; the spinning blade pegged into the center of Trinity's midriff, causing him to double up with the sudden pain. Kurt swiftly rose and circled around to Trinity's left side, advancing once more. He never bothered to look at Baine as he did so.  
This was his biggest mistake so far.

Baine regretted the knowledge of what he had to do; he'd so wanted to capture 4127 alive, but it was becoming obvious that Trinity had met his match. With his entire strike team out of action, Baine needed Trinity's support to get out of the area alive. After all, when push came to shove, a loyal Trinity was infinitely better than a murderous 4127.  
Baine reached into his coat, removed a powerful-looking handgun, and fired it into Kurt's back. The blue mutant stumbled, dropped his blade, and pitched face-down into the snow. Trinity roared in triumph, lumbered over, picked up Kurt's limp form and hurled him twenty feet. Kurt let out a groan of agony as he landed, but wasn't able get to his feet before Trinity reached him once more.

Trinity leaned over Kurt's immobile form and looked into his adversary's eyes. _This_, Kurt told himself, _is the end. Now you are going to die_.  
Unable to speak the words, he recited them in his head, hoping that would be enough for God to hear him.  
_Our father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name! Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven..._  
As Trinity raised his massive claw for the final blow, Kurt closed his eyes. Seconds later, hot blood splashed against his face and chest. _Odd_, Kurt thought. _That didn't hurt..._  
Kurt opened his eyes again and saw immediately why he hadn't been hurt. Trinity hadn't even hit him, and the blood that covered his face wasn't even his.

Trinity rose unsteadily and, with one hand, poked at Kurt's sword. The long blade was sticking out the front of his chest, the hilt pressing against his wings on his back.  
He had been run through.  
Trinity turned around slowly. There, behind him, stood the one who'd stabbed the blade through Trinity's chest.  
"Leave him alone, you... you... you big ASSHOLE!" shouted Jamie Mardox. He scampered away, hoping he'd done enough. Trinity lumbered after the boy, moving slower than before but lethal nonetheless. In a few massive strides, Trinity had reached Jamie. He knocked the young mutant to his feet and raised his claws for the killing blow.

The killing blow, however, stopped before it connected. Trinity roared in frustration at the sudden inability to move his arms and swung his massive head back and forth, seeking the cause of this new frustration. He saw it immediately; a red-haired girl was standing near the large building, pointing at him. As she waved her hands, Trinity felt himself being pushed back. Snarling with his mindless fury, he fought her control, forcing his enormous muscles to move despite the telekinetic restraints on him. With considerable effort, he managed to drop to one knee and raise his claws above his head. He focused the energy he'd rarely had to use, drawing it into his hands.  
Size and strength were not the only experimental enhancements that Baine had given him. Not by a long shot.  
The instant Trinity slammed his fists into the frozen earth, a seismic shockwave rippled out and threw Jean from her feet, incidentally blowing out all of the windows on the eastern side of the Institute. The invisible bonds restricting his movement lifted, and Trinity staggered to his feet, Kurt's sword and dagger still impaled in his chest and midriff. There were still foes standing; Master was not yet safe.  
Trinity still had work to do.

Around the side of the mansion, the still-groggy students gaped at the sight. Hank, Rahne and Evan had revived them with a muscle stimulant Hank kept in the hospital wing, and had led them around to where there was evidently a fight going on. Jean had, apparently, received a summons from the Professor, and run on ahead. Now Hank, Evan, Jubilee, Bobby, Kitty, Rogue and Rahne gaped at their first sight of Trinity as he rose to his feet. Suddenly Bobby's mind clicked into action. Seeing Ororo off to one side, he raced toward Trinity, shouting.  
"Ms. Monroe! Help me out, here!"  
Not really understanding what Bobby had planned, Ororo ran after him. "Bobby! What are you doing?"  
"This!" Bobby focused his energy on the behemoth standing twelve feet in front of him.  
Stalagmites of ice suddenly shot up around Trinity's form, expanding and engulfing the enormous mutant's arms and legs. Trinity, stunned, did not react for an instant, but then he roared yet again and flexed his unnaturally large muscled. Large cracks began to appear in the icy bonds, and Bobby yelled out again.  
"Ms. Monroe? Little help, please!"  
Ororo shook her head, but quickly understood and concentrated her powers. A moment later, a whirlwind of ice and snow engulfed Trinity's form. Bobby began his efforts with renewed vigor, adding to the frozen tempest. Inside the miniature blizzard, Trinity's form could be seen writhing madly as he snarled and roared with rage. In a few moments, the roaring stopped. Shortly thereafter, so did all movement. When the freezing winds had stopped too, all that remained where Trinity had stood was a pale blue column of ice. Amara strode up to this clear, icy pillar, and stared into it. In the depths of the ice, she felt herself being observed; Trinity, unable to move, simply watched her, his presence betrayed by the faint red glow of his eyes. Amara huffed and turned to leave.

**THRMMMMMM**.

The ground seemed to quiver; Trinity's frozen prison definitely did.

**THRMMMMMM. THRMMMMM**.

The ground was definitely shaking now; those still standing lost their balance as one and fell into the snow.

**THRMMMMMM**.

"Seismic waves!" shouted Hank over the din. "He's destroying the ice!"

**THRMMMMMM**.

Indeed, flakes of ice were falling to the ground. Large cracks were beginning to appear in the frozen column.

**THRMMMMMM. THRMMMMM. THRMMMMM**.

A particularly large chunk of ice fell from the structure, revealing one side of Trinity's face. As he caught sight of Amara, trying to regain her feet, the malevolent red glow in his eyes seemed to flare brighter. In response, Amara narrowed her own and began to focus her energy.  
Game over.

Moments later, an enormous fireball slammed into the bizarre frozen structure. There was a deafening explosion and a sound as though the very earth had cracked. Shards of ice flew everywhere. When the conflagration had died down, Amara stepped away from the smoking crater.  
Trinity was no more.

----

Twenty feet away, Baine gaped at the defeat of his champion.  
_This was impossible_.  
No, he realized, it wasn't. It had happened. Now, what was he going to do?  
_Think, Francis_.  
Alright. He was alone in a strange place. He had no way to get to his plane, and anyway couldn't fly the damn thing in the blizzard which was threatening to start anew. He was surrounded by hostile mutants who wanted to kill him, and was armed with a single gun that contained two – he checked it, yes, two – bullets.

Even as he contemplated his next move, the mutants began to advance on him. Desperately he looked around, searching for a way out.  
There was none.

As they neared him, he glanced over toward where Kurt lay. The blue mutant wasn't moving, a fact that did not altogether surprise Baine, considering the damage he'd taken on. In spite of himself, Baine smiled grimly at that. The boy had once said to him that he'd prefer to die than do what Baine wanted him to do.

It seemed that he'd gotten his wish.

"You win, boy," he muttered. "You win."

For one last time, he glanced around him. The other mutants were close now, very close. He didn't expect mercy from them; indeed, considering the situation, he could expect no less than a painful death.

That, at least, he could prevent. If nothing else, he was the master of his own life.

And with that final sentiment, Dr. Francis Baine, head researcher of the Genetex Laboratories, reversed the barrel of his gun, aimed it up under his chin, and pulled the trigger.

His final thought was a vague hope that there was indeed no such thing as an afterlife.

----

Kurt coughed harshly as the gun fired. These people had saved him. The deaths of his family had been avenged, thanks to the efforts of the people who lived in this place so near to the mountains he'd come to call his home. Grunting with pain and effort, he got to his feet. Staggering more than a little, he painfully made his way over to Jamie's side and helped the boy up. Holding on to one another for support, they made their way across to the others. Immediately, the members of the institute began babbling at Kurt, who naturally could not understand a word they said. Eventually, Evan managed to break into the one-sided conversation.  
"Guys? He doesn't speak English. Remember? The Professor told us?"  
Rogue made an 'Ah,' sound. "So how do we talk to him?" she asked.  
Amara called out from a short distance away. "That would be where my presence is needed," she informed the haggard-looking Goth. Making her way over to them, she listened as Kurt managed a few short sentences and translated to the others.  
"Thank you, I'm sorry, I hope no-one was hurt," she informed them. Kitty blinked.  
"Uh, like, no problem," she offered. "It was, like, nothing..."  
Kurt managed a weak smile at Amara's translation before his knees buckled under him and he fainted where he stood. Hank stooped and managed to catch him before he hit the ground.


	8. Chapter 8

Hank had shooed the others out of the room. Kurt was patched up and under anesthetic in the other hospital ward; some of the others were watching over him now. In this room, Scott slept in one bed, his arm in stitches; in the other bed lay Logan's unconscious form.  
"Logan was shot more times than any of the others," Hank had explained to the others. "He was also hit with the stun guns, so his state of unconsciousness is more severe than the others. I need to keep him here for observation." Accepting this, the others had left.  
_Ah_, he thought, _the wonders of being a Doctor. I say something, throw in a bit of medical jargon, and they buy it without question...  
_  
Logan, of course, did not need any special observation at all. A single shot of the same stimulant Hank had given the others would do the trick. It was simply that Hank had not had a good day, and he'd decided that he deserved a little fun.  
Hank opened the cupboard and removed two bags. One contained an electric razor; the other contained Ororo's spare make-up kit.  
Hank hummed a merry little tune as he approached Logan's prone form.

----

In the next room, Kurt was slowly opening his eyes. He was more than a little apprehensive; he already knew that he wasn't waking up in his cave. However, when he did open his eyes, the first thing that swam into focus was that girl – Amara – sitting by his bed.  
"You're awake." The relief showed through Amara's voice, and Kurt couldn't resist.  
"No, I think this is a dream," he croaked. "After all..." he looked blearily around the room. "...I'm fairly certain that I didn't fall asleep here..."  
Amara grinned, then frowned to cover it. "I have been told to pass on a message from Professor Xavier," she announced.  
"Who?"  
"The bald man in the wheelchair?" Amara hinted. When Kurt nodded, she continued. "The Professor is rather impressed with your capabilities, and as such has offered you a place here as one of us."  
Kurt's eyes widened. "Me? But I don't deserve..."  
Amara waved one hand. "You did save his life, after all."  
"I also endangered it in the first place," Kurt reminded her.  
"Whilst you were saving Jamie's life," Amara retorted.

At the mention of his name, Jamie approached the bed from where he'd been standing at the window. "Hi," he said shyly to Kurt. "Are you okay?"  
Kurt understood what Jamie was asking. "_Ja, mein klein brüder, kein problem_."  
Jamie looked questioningly at Amara, who supplied the translation. "Little brother!?!" exclaimed Jamie. "COOL!"  
Amara chuckled as the younger boy waved and left the room, practically glowing from the small endearment. Kurt returned his attention to Amara. "I will consider the Professor's offer," he told Amara. Then, he slowly reached out and placed his hand on top of hers. "And thank you," he told her.  
Amara looked confused. "What for?"  
"For caring. For treating me as another person and not the demon I know that I appear to be."  
Amara shook her head. "You are not a demon. You... you are more of an elf," she decided.  
Kurt blinked. "Huh?"  
"A blue-furred elf," Amara insisted. Kurt blinked anew at that description, but sobered quickly and squeezed her hand.  
"Thank you," he repeated. Then he closed his eyes.  
It had been a long time since Kurt had slept as soundly as he did then.

He was safe.

----

Hank was still chuckling as he closed the bathroom door, anticipating Logan's reaction upon waking.  
_McCoy_, he told himself, _You are pure evil..._

However, even the evil must bathe upon occasion. Sniffing himself, Hank decided that this indeed was such an occasion, and turned on the hot water. He had quickly worked up a good lather with the liquid soap he preferred to use.  
Still focusing on his malicious glee, he didn't notice the strange burning sensation in his fur for nearly five minutes. It took another three before he became uncomfortable enough to act.  
Seizing the shampoo bottle, he read the label, looking for any new chemicals they might have added that could be causing an allergic reaction. As he did so, he noticed the label begin to slip off, revealing a smaller one underneath. Hank swiftly ripped off the outer layer, only to see the most horrifying thing in his life.

**EXTRA-STRENGTH BLEACH**, the smaller label announced. Written underneath this dreadful heading in permanent marker was a short, succinct message in Logan's handwriting: "_Merry Unbirthday, Poindexter_."

Hank's anguished scream could have been heard miles away.


	9. Epilogue

"_Sehr Gut_, Kurt," congratulated Amara. "Now, the next page."  
"One side will make you grow taller, the other will make you grow shorter." Read Kurt slowly. "One side of what? The other side of what?" thought Alice to herself. "Of the mushroom," said the Caterpillar..."

Six weeks had passed since Kurt had finally accepted Charles' offer of a place amongst the X-Men. It was now the first Monday of the winter break, and the students, still in the habit of rising early, were mostly crowded around the dining room. Amara was helping Kurt with his English, reading from a book she'd found in the library. She glanced around the room at the others.  
At one end of the table, Evan and Jamie were looking at a skating magazine and arguing over which board design was better. Bobby, Jubilee and Rahne were sitting to one side, listening to the argument and making the occasional comment. Rogue and Kitty sat nearer to the center of the table, wondering why they had bothered to get up at this time of morning; Scott and Jean were across the table from them, engaged in some obscure argument over how big a jerk Duncan Matthews was.  
At the far end of the table sat the adults. Ororo was at the head of the table, reading the morning newspaper and patently ignoring the two men on either side of her. Logan's hair had mostly grown back, although he was still being teased about the makeover that Hank had given him. Recently Logan had taken to carefully sniffing out anything he saw before touching it, in order to ensure that Hank had not tampered with it. Hank sat directly across the table from Logan. His fur had mostly regained its normal hue, and aside from a nervous tic that had started in the corner of one eye, he seemed perfectly calm. He wasn't. The two men sat, unmoving, glaring suspiciously at one another. Neither man had dared to sleep at all for the past five nights, and both were approaching their respective limits. Currently, the betting pool as to when, exactly, one of them would undergo a nervous breakdown was at $250, and increasing every day.

Amara resumed listening to Kurt, to whom she had recently become rather attached. Unlike the rest of these peasants, he showed her a decent amount of respect. _It's not just that_... her conscience began. _Quiet, you_, she thought at it. It was then that a voice caught her attention.  
"Kurt?" called Charles from the doorway. "Could you come over here for a moment, please?"  
Kurt closed his book and stood. "Danke, Amy, du bist..."  
"Ah!" Amara wagged a finger at him. "In English!"  
Kurt grinned, then bowed and kissed Amara's hand. "Thank you, Amy," he said clearly. "You are very kind with me." With that, he strolled away to where Charles waited. The others regarded Amara with amused expressions.  
"Amy?" asked Jean incredulously.  
Amara blushed. "It's short for Amara. He won't stop calling me that," she muttered. "Stupid peasant thinks he's so funny..."  
Rogue and Kitty grinned and exchanged glances with Jubilee.  
"You know," commented Rogue, "to 'teach someone a new tongue' is just a figure of speech..."  
"Like, yeah," agreed Kitty. "Although it DOES add a whole new meaning to the term 'international affairs'..."  
"So," asked Jubilee, "are we gonna hear about any 'trans-country relations' taking place?"  
Amara looked at the paintings on the wall and scowled furiously in an attempt to hide crooked smile from the others. She failed. Dismally.

Kurt reached the Professor's chair. "Yes, herr Professor?" he asked.  
"Here." Charles offered something to Kurt. "Put this on."  
Kurt took the proffered object – an expensive-looking sports watch – and buckled it onto his wrist. He examined the object closely. "Danke, herr Professor, but why give me..." Kurt trailed off expectantly.  
Charles smiled. "Press the top button once and the lower button twice," he ordered. Kurt did so, and gasped involuntarily at the change.  
He was _normal_. Pink skin. Five fingers. His large feet appeared to be in sneakers. _He looked just like everyone else.  
_"How... how is this possible?" he whispered.  
"It is a holographic projection," explained Charles. "It should allow you to go out with the others in public, and perhaps extend the boundaries of you world." He met Kurt's eyes and smiled warmly. "I thought it rather unfair that you should spend all your time in the shadows..."

Everyone jumped as Kurt let out a whoop and leaped into a series of backflips that carried him back across the room. Righting himself, he tightly hugged the nearest person. That person happened to be Amara, who squeaked as her eyes went wider than dinner plates. Kurt didn't notice; instead he broke away from the embrace and walked over to a mirror set into one wall. Watching his reflection, he raised one pink hand and touched his human-looking face. As he did so, somewhere deep inside of him, a great weight fell off his heart. For the first time in almost three years, laughter began to bubble up inside of him, and he opened his mouth and let it come. Tears of joy pricked the backs of his eyes. He laughed because he was happy; he laughed because he was free; he laughed because he was alive and well, against all odds.  
At long last, he was safe. He had finally found his place.

01500-4127 was dead.

Long live Kurt Wagner.

**The End**


	10. From The Author

Greetings and salutations!

First of all, thanks for reading this story. This was the very first piece of fanfiction I ever wrote, and it's something I'm still disgustingly fond of. It's also the first part of what will one day (I hope) become a 5-part series!  
: :dances: :

To all readers, you have my love; to all reviewers, you have my love, my life, and anything else that I or my singing platypus companion are capable of getting you. Like all internet authors, the only payment I ever recieve for work are reviews. They're my lifeblood. Please, let me know what you thought of this piece.  
Thank you again, and I'll see you at the sequel!

Yours,  
Tergon  
& Selexor the Singing Platypus


End file.
